It’s 5:45am.

I have been up since 3am.

This has been going on for the past two months and I am exhausted. Recently, I have averaged about 3 hours of sleep a night and it has begun to take its toll on me. All of me. Physically, mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually.

A few days ago, I reached out to my primary care physician and outlined my problem. I was glad when he responded with a string of questions including, “Are there any heavy emotional issues weighing on your mind, affecting your ability to let down, turn off, relax, and fall asleep?” “Are there any new medications, foods, supplements, teas, coffees, etc. that could have a stimulant effect?” “Has your sleep become unsafe or are you solely responsible for responding to a potential night-time child/family emergency?”

These questions got me thinking.

I mean, OF COURSE, but isn’t that just part of the gig here?

I am a missionary, living in a foreign land, with two new (almost) adopted kids. OF COURSE, there are heavy emotional issues. I just thought I was supposed to tolerate them and keep putting one foot in front of the other because, well, “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” Right?

But when I had to draft a response, I realized the depth and breadth of what I was dealing with.

Thank you! We now have two girls and they are wonderful. Rowan, the second, is very difficult but she makes gains every day. At the beginning she was up 4-5 times a night, but she has slept through the night for a solid two weeks now. 

I do not have anything different regarding stimulants, just one cup of tea in the morning. 

I am thinking a lot about finances. With two new ones, our financial support is not enough, and it scares me. I am going back to the States on March 20 to fundraise and I'll have to leave Steven and the girls here because they can't travel. I am not excited about the trip, but we need to double our support in order to stay afloat. I'm also worried about school for the girls as all the schools have turned them away. And they both have HIV and Amelia is in remission from Hodgkin's Lymphoma. It's a lot and I'm sure all of that is enough to keep me up. I can't stop thinking about all of that. I have been taking melatonin for about 3 weeks. 3mg tablets. But they haven't done anything. 

I'm just exhausted and the lack of sleep is taking a toll on all areas of my life.

This was the first time that I had expressed what was weighing on me.

After I sent it, I got to thinking a bit more and the weight of everything came tumbling down on me. I didn’t even mention things like

• the difficulty of living in a country with a different language and culture (even though I speak the local language(s), it is still EXHAUSTING to live everyday in a second language)

• the frustrations of bureaucratic processes including the HOURS in line for ONE document, or the requirement to take my children to a hospital every 3 months where they are treated terribly, yelled at, and hurt

• the pressure of being in a position that people look up to and look to

• the emotional toll of crying with and for my children because of the hurt that they have endured and daily dealing with the behaviors and doubts that it has created in them

• the time and energy that it takes to be financially supported (yes, support raising is in itself a full-time job!)

I could go on.

This realization got me thinking. Thinking hard. And thinking so much that my inability to sleep is even getting worse (Ugh). But this morning, at 3 am, it hit me.

Coincidentally, we are going through a series at church titled “You are not alone”. We have spent the past three weeks talking about how God is always with us, the church is with us, and our spouses are with us. And while I sat there each Sunday morning and listened (albeit not fully due to the fact that my six-year-old leaves Sunday school 3-5 times a Sunday just to check if we’re still there and sit on my lap for a few minutes before heading back to class) I couldn’t help but think that this seemed so good in theory, but in practice, was lacking quite a bit.. and it didn’t quite make sense as to why.

I mean, I have quiet time every morning. I pray fervently. I go to a pretty big church FULL of people. I have a loving husband. All the pieces line up. So, what’s wrong?

I feel like an empty tea pot that has been poured into all the teacups at the table, except my own. But daily I run to the source of life. I have all that I need from the one who created me. I attend and am even staff at a church. My husband and I still go on dates (well, not as much anymore, but that’s normal in parenting, right?)  

So why do I still feel so empty?

At 3am, I think I finally figured it out.

Expectations.

While I am not alone and all the pieces are there, I have come to realize the power of expectations.

1. Expectations from and of myself

2. Expectations from others

3. My own assumptions about the expectations of others

Expectations from and of myself

Maybe it comes from my time in graduate school (actually, this is where I can trace a lot of it back to), but I expect myself to be able to do it all and maintain composure. Without help. There are many reasons from my own past, but I have come to realize that I view seeking help for myself as weak (which is ironic as I am the first to tell others to seek help and am myself a professional in a helping field).

Expectations from Others

While I can’t always know for sure what others expect, it is a reality that people have expectations of me. Some of the obvious ones include professional expectations for my license to practice, expectations of membership in our professional society, and expectations for church staff. And while these are all reasonable and concrete, there are expectations that remain unstated and could possibly be unreasonable (but we can’t control that, now can we!?) Regardless of whether we like it or not, people DO have expectations and we may or may not be able to live up to them.

My own assumptions about the expectations of others

This is where the rubber meets the road. I am pretty positive that I am not the only one who struggles here, but for now I will just speak for myself. My own assumptions about the expectations of others has hindered me in oh so many ways. It took a minute, but I think I have compiled a (in by NO MEANS comprehensive) list of my top assumptions of people’s expectations. Here they are:

• My competence as a professional

• How put together I am

• How I spend my time

• How I allow myself to enjoy leisure

• How I manage my finances

• How I parent my children

• How my children behave (because in some alternate universe, this EQUALS me?

 Again, not a comprehensive list, but you get the gist.

The reality is that I have been letting expectations get in the way of true expression, true community, and true relationships.

When I look back in the only book that really matters, I noticed that encounters, interactions, and life in general was and is just messy. And Jesus embraced that mess. He met people where they were. He didn’t expect. He just met.

I am coming to the source of life with clenched fists, tired, burdened, weary. I come for rest. Right? But do I, really?

Accepting rest. Accepting community. It’s an active process. Acceptation seems passive, but it is incredibly active. It takes letting go. And letting go is HARD.